


Frosties, Grumpy Wolves and Jedi

by quicksylver28



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hospitals, Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 23:33:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13891467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksylver28/pseuds/quicksylver28
Summary: Slushies are NOT Frosties. Stiles will fight you on this.





	Frosties, Grumpy Wolves and Jedi

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be for a prompt in a group challenge I was taking part in. We ended up using something else in the end though so I decided to post this on my own account. It doesn't really follow the prompt in all aspects but i'm proud of my little ficlet.

Stiles wasn't sure why he was in the parking lot of his local Gas Station qwikiMart at late o'clock at night, sitting propped up against the cola machine as he slurped down his third, count it, third blue Frosty. And no, Slushies were not Frosties, fuck you very much. Stiles will fight you on this. 

Anyway, the point he was trying to put across was that he could not seem to come up with a valid reason for biking twenty minutes out of his way on his father's rickety old bicycle to come to this particular Gas Station/ Frosty paradise when he was A) currently without a functioning car, hence his recent use of the two wheeling tetanus express and B) there was a qwikiMart not five minutes' walk from his house that served perfectly fine Slush- okay, he can't even complete the word. No. just no. 

So. Ok. Valid reason confirmed. Nothing cured magical hangover like blue frosty-goodness. 

He glanced down at the two other giant cups, sitting empty near his hip as he lounged on the curb, sucking down sugary goodness from the cup in his hand. The night was pitch black, the road disappearing into the darkness both ways as the neon signs above him flickered across the wet asphalt. He dragged his fingertips through the condensation beading across the cups surface, drawing a crude rune then quickly wiping it clean.

He picked at his ragged shoelace as he contemplated either getting up and buying another gut-buster or trying his luck at wrangling the public restroom key from the bored looking clerk. He had a feeling he would be needing it soon anyway. 

Damn those blue Frosties for being so delicious.

The straw scraped along the bottom of the cup as he moved it back and forth, trying to slurp up the last of the syrupy liquid. With a mix of satisfaction and utter disappointment, he sighed and leaned his head back against the coke machine, letting his eyes fall closed; the headache that had been pounding in his head since his session with Deaton earlier in the evening finally receding, 

Warding rituals were always a strain near the end, especially on big objects like buildings. The prolonged concentration needed to lay the different layers of protection required a level of patience and focus that always tested his ADHD the longer the ritual lasted.

But, as endlessly tiring as they were, people paid good money for them. Like really good money. Seriously. A lot of money. Money that Stiles needed to get his jeep out from the garage and back into his arms ASAP. He absently patted the cheque in his jeans pocket and grinned to himself. 

"Cola" a voice chirped near his feet and Stiles jumped, flailing against the machine and sending the empty cups tumbling away. 

His knee jerk reaction at being surprised sent the cup in his hand flinging towards the source of the noise and a hollow *thok* was almost drowned out by Stiles high pitched yelp. Clutching his hand to his chest, he crab walked a few steps back and did a dive roll straight out of a James Bond movie. 

Ok, sue him, it was a bit of an over-reaction but in his line of business, a well-executed duck and roll could mean the difference between living and well, not-living. Palm up, shielding rune lit glowing at its centre, he scanned the creature that surely arose from the very depths of hell to much on his soul.

"Cola?" the demon chirped again and Stiles blinked stupidly.

He'd heard of demons that looked like little kids before but this one even had the adorable pink cheeks and cute dribbly mouth. Stiles blinked again and whispered a low key reveal spell, meant to disperse basic illusions. 

The demon blinked at the flash of light and then… giggled. 

Stiles let himself sit back heavily. "Uh… Cola?"

The demon giggled, pointing at the Coke Machine, showing sparse yet adorable baby teeth. 

Huffing, he glanced back through the gas station window where the clerk sat staring back at him, hand on chin. He blinked slowly at Stiles then at the demon then at Stiles again before popping his gum and checking his phone.

Stiles scoffed, getting to his feet, quickly doing a more advanced reveal spell. The result was human, kinda. The reading was a bit wobbly and he made a face at the little 'kinda' human.

"So… where did you come from then?" he asked the smaller being. 

It… or rather he, blinked back with adorable green eyes. "Cola!"

"Yeah, Cola." Stiles shrugged and looked around the deserted lot. Even if this was a 'kinda' human, this was no time for it to be running around. By itself. All alone. No rational or reasonable adult in sight.

Right. Not creppy at all.

"WYATT!" came a shout from one side as an older boy tore around the side of the building, his eyes wide and frightened. He gasped loudly and ran up to them, grabbing hold of the toddler and pulling him into a tight hug.

"Wyatt! What did Mom tell you about wondering off?" 

The mini-human, well… Wyatt, giggled and hugged back; shrieking "Cola!" into the larger boys ear.

They were both of the same colouring, brown shaggy hair and pretty green hazel eyes but while the younger's were filled with the joy for potential sugar intake, the elder's held the burning rage of a thousand suns.

"LEAVE MY BROTHER ALONE YOU PEDO!" he yelled at Stiles before grabbing his brother's hand and hustling back around the corner of the building. 

Stiles could only blink, standing there in shock as he made a helpless gesture and glanced around for some kind of assistance. The parking lot was empty, the sky showed no sign of divine intervention and the gas station clerk just smirked and went back to his phone. 

Giving a loud and put upon sigh because he couldn't just leave it alone, damn moral code; he trudged around the side of the building in search for the two kids apparently running around by themselves. At night. At a lonely and pretty skeezy gas station. He did mention that it was fuck o'clock at night right?

There was a black minivan parked near the restrooms, the doors opened wide. Older kid was buckling younger kid into the car seat, complaining loudly about kid the younger was more slippery than and eel and if he could just please stay in the car seat for five minutes okay?

"Hey, your guys okay?" 

Kid the older jumped and spun to look at Stiles. There was a serious deer in headlight look going on. 

"What do you want Pedo?" he snarled.

"I'm not a peadophile. I just want to help" Stiles snapped back.

Kid the older sneered, trying to block the open door with his body.

"That's exactly what a pedo would say."

"Geez kid. I just wanted to know if you were ok?" Stiles ran a frustrated hand over his buzz cut hair. "If you and the mini here have a grown up with you, I'll just talk to them and go ok?" 

He raised a skeptical brow. "There is a grown up here with you right?"

"What are you an idiot? Of course there is a grown up here with us. Do you think we drove ourselves here?"

Stiles folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head. "Ok. So where are they?"

Kid shifted a look into the cab of the car then back at Stiles. "Our Mom, she's in the rest room."

Stiles glanced at the nearby door. "The locked restroom right there?"

The kid flushed. "What about you? Are you here with a grown up?"

Stiles gaped. "Hey, I'm twenty three and very legal thank you very much."

Kid rolled his eyes. "Yeah sure, I bet they card you at every bar."

Stiles scowled. "Hey I'm not the one who let their little brother wander a dark parking lot late at night."

The boy's face scrunched up and went red. "Fuck you man, I'm nine years old and my mom just collapsed on me, what's your excuse?"

"What?" Stiles blinked, stepping forward to look into the van's cab where a lovely brunette was slumped against the steering wheel. "Shit, sorry kid, let me call an ambulance."

"NO!" the boys eyes widened, glancing between Stiles and his prone mother. "We can't… they can't handle this…" his big green eyes are pleading. "No hospital."

Those green eyes glint gold and Stiles inhales sharply.

Werewolves. He'd known that there was a pack in the area but he hadn't known that there were kids in it. He leaned forward to examine the woman again, reaching for her hand. The kid growled, full out growled at him and he jerked his hand back.

"Sorry" he said, trying to keep calm. "I need to see her fingers. It's okay, I'm a friend."

He pulled up the sleeve of his hoodie to reveal the band of runes tattooed around his arm. It was one of the few visible tattoos Stiles had. This one's main purpose was to prove that he was a friend to the preternatural and ally to those in need. 

The boy seemed to recognize it though his skepticism was still evident on his face. Stiles sent some power to the band and it lit up bright blue that made the kid hiss a breath and slowly step back. 

Stiles gently picked up the woman's hand, turning it over to examine her fingertips.

"Wolfsbane poisoning." he murmured, "See here… her fingertips are tinted black. Has your mum been feeling sick lately, tired a lot? Not eating as much?"

Stiles looked up at the responding silence to see quiet tears falling from the boy's eyes, his lips trembling as he clutched his hands together.

"Wolfsbane? " the young voice is a shaky whisper almost lost in the silence of the deserted parking lot. 

Stiles shakes his head quickly, putting his hands up as if to ward off the emotion brimming in the boys eyes. "Uh…Uh… it's gonna be ok. Your mom's gonna be okay."

"Don't lie."

Stiles scowled in affront. "I'm not lying!"

Gold glinted eyes narrow at him. "I can hear your heart racing"

"My heart's racing because I'm standing in a deserted parking lot with an unconscious werewolf and two little kids and I'm fucking scared, you jerk."

The boy pouted mulishly. "You’re a jerk." 

Stiles has to bite his lip not to snap back at the kid but he takes in his reddened face and overflowing tears and takes a deep breath. He glances back at the gas station where his bike is leaning against the ice cooler then back at the woman laying prone and sighs.

"Okay" he nodded to himself, looking at the boy barely holding back a meltdown . "Okay."

Getting the kids tucked in the van and their mom, Laura, the kid tells him; wrapped in a blanket and buckled in the front seat is no easy matter but Stiles somehow achieved it and they were soon on their way. 

"Where are we going?" The kid asked, with a deep scowl, his little arms crossed over his chest.

Stiles adjusted the rearview a bit to look back at him. "I have a friend. She's a nurse. She can help us."

"I said no hospitals!" A hard kick against the back of his seat makes Stiles scowl. 

"Well, the only other person I know is a veterinarian down at the animal clinic ok? We don't exactly have a wealth of options here. I know you guys are wolves but I didn't think that you would want to go to the animal clinic.

"No. hospitals." The boy's tone is flat and angry.

Stiles huffs. "Fine. " And turned towards Deaton's.

He called Scott on the way, his best friend waiting to meet him outside the glass double doors. The crooked jawed boy blinked at the kids before helping Stiles carry the woman inside. Deaton came out from the back, wiping his hands on a towel.

"We are not a people clinic Stiles." He sighed.

Stiles rolled his eyes, ushering the two kids in with him. "Well, I couldn't bring the poisoned werewolf to the local ER now could i?"

Deaton straightened, checking Laura over before gesturing Scott inside with his burden. The kid tried to follow but Stiles held him back, crouching down to face them.

"Hey, Deaton's ok. He's a shaman and despite his bed side manner, he's a great doctor."

"I thought he was a vet." the kid's nostrils flared.

Stiles cut him a look and flung an arm out towards the rest of the room.

"You are the one who said no hospitals." 

Stiles had to go back out to the van to get Laura's purse and baby bag and by the time he came back in, the two boys had snuck into the examination room and had curled up together under a corner table. Deaton gave Stiles a disappointed look as Scott shrugged. 

Stiles handed the purse to the kid who clutched it tight against his chest. Glancing briefly at the woman lying on the table, Stiles slid down the wall next to the table, handing them two bottles of water and some snacks he'd looted from Scott's work stash.

"You got a name kid?" he rolled his head to look at the two boys. 

He got a surly look in response then a soft "Owen."

He nodded, "Anyone we can call? Dad?" 

A shake of the head, no. 

"Aunts, Uncles, Grandparents?"

"Uncle."

Owen digs into the purse and pulls out Laura's phone, unlocking the home screen and quickly scrolling through the contacts before handing the device over.

"Grumpywolf" Stiles cackled at the screen. "Oh, that's choice."

There was a picture of a beautiful black wolf on the screen as it dialed and as it picked up a loud growl cut stiles off before he could talk.

"What?"

Holy cow on a flying carpet, that growl was terrifying. Stiles balls all but crawled back up into him.

"Laura? Who is this?

"Uh…" He managed to stammer. "Laura's okay. The kids are okay."

The growl just got louder and more terrifying.

Stiles meeped and shoved the phone at the kid who for a second, stared back at him like he was an idiot before taking the phone. It was a look of heavy judgment. Stiles felt very judged. He slumped against the wall with a sight. Maybe he was an idiot but that growl had been 'imma kill you nice and slow boy' levels of scary. 

After giving the kid directions to the clinic to pass onto his uncle and checking with Deaton and Scott, he went out to the van to check for any evidence of the poisonous substance. He was still checking the seats when the roar of an engine thrummed through his bones.

His flailed, hitting his head against the roof of the car and cursing as he tumbled out and was immediately slammed against the side of the van, electric blue eyes and sharps fangs all up in his face. He felt his feet leave the ground, his sneakers squeaking against the wet ground as he struggled against the hold.

"Where's Laura?" Promised Death By Mauling © growled in his face, his hot breath against stiles cheek. "What have you done with her? Where are the boys?"

Stiles slammed blue lit palms against the man's shoulder, slamming the man back a good ten feet that had him tumbling back unto his ass. Stiles fell into a crouch, his palms up and glowing bright blue. 

"Hands off, murder face." He snarled. 

The werewolf rolled to his feet, letting his fangs recede and his eyes bled from blue to the same pretty green the boys had. Stiles mouth went dry. Fuck this guy was hot. Scary as fuck but scorching hot. Black leather jacket, tight faded jeans, black combat boots and an 8 o'clock shadow on his ridiculously gorgeous face.

Stiles stood as well, mentally willing away his wildly inappropriate boner, and gestured towards the door, following the wolf as he stalked inside. Upon spotting the man, the boys squealed and rushed across the room, throwing themselves into the man's arms. Uncle Derek took their weight like a champ, slowly sinking to his knees as he hugged the crying boys close. 

Stiles heart all but melted as the man's face softened, rumbling low in his chest as he rubbed his hands down their backs. He guided them all into the waiting room, sitting with them until the boys were drooping and Deaton came out of the examination room. 

"Wolfsbane poison" he confirmed solemnly. "Long term exposure in minute amounts. Mostly likely something she ate or drank."

Derek looked as lost as his nephews at the news, clutching the boys to him as he stared at the floor. Stiles wanted to take them all home and wrap them up in every blanket he had and stuff them to the gills with soup and cookies. 

"Will she be ok?" the werewolf's voice, when he wasn't threatening Stiles, was soft and sexy but a bit shaky in the circumstances. 

Deaton smiled his small twitch of the lips. "She'll make a full recovery."

Everyone seemed to slump in relief at that, Stiles dropping down into the seat next to the adorable trio.

"Thank the Goddess." he exhaled deeply. He ran both hands over his short hair and just let himself breathe. 

While Scott took the family into seeing their loved one, Stiles made his way to the bathroom and took care of the pressing matter of his earlier three Frosty binge fest. He was in the process of washing his hands when a thought struck him. 

He scrambled out of the clinic, startling Scott, and made his way to the van. He dove in, digging though the empty bottles and snack packaging until he gave a yell of triumph, holding his prize above his head as he marched back into the building and smacked it unto the Formica counter.

Deaton and Scott both looked at the thing, Derek popping out of the room to look as well. He frowned.

"That's Laura's. She buys one every morning. Says that she can't handle the boys without the boost."

Stiles grins and gestures at the vente cardboard cup with green filigree. "This cup comes from that specialty tea shop just off main street. It boasts a variety of rare and imported tea and herbal remedies and one of the is a caffeine loaded heart stopper that would probably give a shot of pure adrenaline a run for its money. Perfect for a werewolf metabolism."

Derek frowned, staring down at the cup. "What's that got to do with Laura being sick?"

"Patience my good wolfman." Stiles raises a finger and smirks at the other man's flat look. "… the point of this little exercise is that what is not widely known is the exact blend of the concoction, especially one of the ingredients used in small quantities to help aid in respiration and circulation. At the shop they call it devil's helmet but we know it as…"

"… Wolfsbane." Deaton frowned, stoking his chin as he looked up at Stiles. "How did you know?"

Stiles rocked back on his heels, shoving his hands in his pockets. "That's where is get some of my spell ingredients from. Anything they don't have, their buyer can usually source for me overseas."

"Ah I see." The vet nodded sagely. "I was wondering where you got that Appalachian ram's horn last month."

Stiles grinned. "It's all about who you know"

By the time morning's light started shining through the high windows of the clinic, the drama from the night before seemed so far away. Laura was still sleeping but it was a natural sleep and Deaton had left hours before, after declaring her stable. 

Derek was sleeping on one of the metal gurneys that Stiles and Scott had padded with plastic sheeting. The boys were curled up in his arms in the most adorable puppy pile that Stiles had ever laid eye on.

If he had ovaries they would be exploding right now.

Derek's leather jacket was wrapped around the boys, who sniffled and snuggled into his scent. That left the man's spectacular arms bare and free for Stiles to ogle shamelessly from the door way. Eventually Scott had dragged him away and they both feel asleep against each other on the two rolling office chairs at the front desk. How they managed to do that every time without falling was a mystery even Deaton could not solve.

A sound to his side had Stiles jerking awake, Scott sniffling against his shoulder. Stiles guided him gently against the filing cabinet then looked up into beautiful green eyes. Derek looked so soft and angelic in the dawning light that it took Stiles breath away. Then the man smiled and Stiles couldn't help but make a helpless sound in his throat before faking a cough and standing abruptly; sending the chair rolling across the floor and into Scott's.

They both froze, staring at the sleeping boy who just snorted and turned his head the next way. Derek and Stiles shared a look before the werewolf nodded his head towards the front doors. The parking lot was painted light blue and gold and Stiles had a random thought about symbolism that he blinked away when Derek faced him.

"I wanted to thank you." the other man said, shyly, hunching his broad shoulders,"… for being there for the boys. For helping them and my sister. They are the only family I have."

"They're pack" Stiles supplied softly and Derek nodded. "Yeah."

Stiles bumped shoulders. "It's nothing man. Anyone would have done it."

Derek went serious and stared into Stiles' eyes. "No they wouldn't"

Stiles had to look away and take a deep breath, then nodded in silent and sad agreement.

"You're welcome." he said softly, knowing that the werewolf would hear him. 

"What a night though." he chuckled after a while, "For a second there I thought you were going to murder me."

Derek laughed and it was glorious to both see and hear.

"For a second there I nearly did. Some stranger calls from my Alpha's phone and I hear my nephews crying. Then I get here and see some guy rummaging through her car and all I can smell is pain and fear. Yeah… it was close there for a hot minute."

The werewolf shook his head ruefully. "Then you forced pushed me across the car park and all I could think of was 'Oh shit I pissed off a jedi! Fuck my life'. "

Stiles guffawed, clutching at his stomach. "Oh man, I gotta tell Scotty that one. A Jedi. I love it."

Derek grinned. "Maybe that's what I'll call you from now on. Young Skywalker."

"Oh no" Stiles shook his head, "I'm no Skywalker. I'm Obi-wan if nothing else. And I would watch it with the nick names … Grumpy wolf."

Derek froze, his eyes wide. Stiles chuckled. "Your sister's phone contact list."

The other man groaned, a sound of long suffering and exasperation. 

"She has that on her phone?" he threw he head back and slapped a hand to his face.

"Yup" Stiles popped the 'p' obnoxiously. 

They grinned at each other in the brightening day and Stiles felt a warmth in his belly that fluttered and grew, warming his chest. Oh yeah, today was going to be a good day.

Derek sighed. "Laura should be waking up soon."

"You going to tease her about poisoning herself with wolfbane?" Stiles teased.

Derek barked a laugh. "Forever. I'll have them put it on her tombstone. After I hug her and cry all over her for scaring me thought. Then the teasing will commence." 

"I hear you man. My dad and I have this…."

Derek looked over to where Stiles stood, his words having trailed off. There was a odd look on his face.

"Stiles? What's wrong?" he put his hand on the younger man's arm, "You're scaring me. What's wrong?"

The man in question drug a heavy hand down his face with a groan. "I left my dad's bike at the gas station. He's is going to kill me."

He turned to the werewolf. "I'm a dead man do you hear? The walking dead."

Derek made a face. "I'm sure it's not that bad." 

Stiles scoffed at his woeful ignorance. "It was a 1958 Schwinn my Mom got from her Grandmother for her tenth birthday. Do you even… and I left it leaning on an ice machine at the qwikiMart. Someone must have stolen it by now. I am so dead."

He grabbed at Derek's arms with both hands, shaking the man as he hissed. "So. Dead."

Pretty green eyes searched his for a moment before the werewolf nodded. 

"Which gas station?"

"Corner of Vine and Maple"

Derek smiled and pressed his palm against Stiles' cheek. It was calloused and warm and Stiles leaned into it and covered it with his own without a second thought. 

"Keep an eye on the boys, I'll be right back."

And with those words he took off running, easily leaping over the chain link fence at the end of the lot and disappearing into the trees. Stiles could only blink after him and press a hand against his warm cheek.

"I'm gonna marry that man someday." he promised himself and sealed it with a solemn nod.

And he would y'know. 

The force was with him.


End file.
